Love Means You Suck
by Prewritesuccession
Summary: Love means you suck. In tennis, it's very true. Ren is captain of Rikkaidai's girls' tennis team. When her sister, Ami, tells her a school activity is being hosted and all tennis Regulars are welcome, she gladly attends to set an example for the other girls. However, Ami didn't tell her what they were doing, and Ren certainly didn't expect it to be a school-festival dating show.


I could jog a marathon without stopping. I could take down a tae kwon do specialist in a moment. I could bring a tennis racket zero to sixty in under a second. I could be patient and sketch the same scene for hours on end. I could manage five crying infants at one time. But I could _not _handle things like this.

Ami, my sister, (who is now dead to me) told me this show was extra credit for our classes and a fun thing for our tennis team. Not that I _need _extra credit, but advancements in academics were always open to me. Plus, I _was _team captain. It was my duty to set an open example for my fellow peers.

"_It is a special activity that will broaden your horizons," _Ami had said. "You'll meet new people," she had said. "It will be so good for you mentally and it's going to be fun!" she had said. But one thing she _didn't _say was _how _we were meeting these "new people."

And she _also _failed to mention it was on a school-broadcasted dating show.

Our school, Rikkaidai, hosts festivals all throughout the year. This spring was club-operated, inter-school activities. Ami, being our team manager, had planned "a surprise activity" with the boys' team, unbeknownst to me and the other girls. All we knew was that it was optional, but all Regulars were welcome.

Oh no, no, no, how she made it sound _so fun! _and _a great experience! _

The set in front of me could not be any more _un_inviting. There were six seats on each side, covered with red satin and giant pink bows that screamed Valentine's Day. A giant grid that would mix-a-match was set up in the middle. There were a small pattern of buttons on one side of the grid to choose your own match. I frowned. _Only one side?_

I took one look and promptly turned around. However, before I could speak, a loud screech broke my stride and I grudgingly turned around.

_"Ren?" _

I watched as one of my own girls, Mitsuki, run up to me and give me a bone-crushing hug. She looked strange out of her uniform, instead wearing a bright blue sun-dress that clashed brilliantly against her auburn hair. She looked me over then frowned.

"Why aren't you dressed?" I looked at my outfit. I had worn a pair of jeans under a pair of boots and one of my nicer T-Shirts that screamed **Love Means You Suck**. Ami had gotten it for me a while ago and I had cracked up at the play-on-words and the double-meaning in tennis and life. I protectively crossed my arms over my shirt. Mitsuki rolled her eyes and led me by the hand over to the group of tennis Regulars, both guys and girls, waiting and chatting backstage.

"Oh, look you decided to show!" I gave the magenta-head a weary look before yawning.

"Hello, Bunta."

Ayani, one of my own, gave a gasp from her conversation and practically leapt on me, grasping my arm tightly. "Ren!" She squealed happily, long purple hair tied up into a pony-tail that bounced wildly like chimes in the wind. "I didn't know you liked _dating shows!_" I pried her arm off my own and rubbed the sore spot.

"I was deluded," I muttered. The one I recognized as the vice-captain Sanada of the boys' team coughed quietly under his breath.

"No kidding."

I tried to escape, but Chou had sheepishly followed, asking if she could come too. I bit my lip and returned; I was an example for my girls. If everyone left, this show would be a disaster. I cracked a dry smile. If it wasn't already a disaster.

Soon the stage manager took us out and we each took a seat outside. A small audience of students were sitting in the seats set up and someone counted down from ten to signal our broadcasting. Us girls were seated at the end without buttons and I gave a disgruntled roll of my eyes. _Of course. _I decided against putting my head down on the table-grid like I was tempted to; that'd be disrespectful and against my overall image. The manager fingered _one _and the lights were on, videos were taping, everyone was watching.

I stared at the tips of my shoelaces.

"Welcome, everybody!" A first-year girl with light blue hair the same shade of mine bounced onstage, Rikkaidai uniform on and long pigtails bobbing in an overly-peppy fashion. My eyes narrowed on my sister. She turned and gestured happily at all of us sitting at the table. "We have some lovely contestants today on..." there was an audio tape of a drum roll. "_The Table of Love!" _I grimaced physically at that title. We were in junior high. Love was in the air?

No; more like hormones.

"Well," Ami bubbled, strolling over all the while staring at the camera. "Let's meet our lovely contestants who will be playing today! Actually, only our boys will choose, as a special Boy's-Choice event!" She winked at the audience and Ren groaned. _So I have to get involved and actually get shown favoritism? _Meanwhile, Ami skipped over to Mitsuki, at the head of our table. "Please tell us your name, your year, and something you love to do!"

Mitsuki leaned to the microphone confidently. "Hello, everyone. My name is Mitsuki Hanamura, I am a third year, and I love to cook and play tennis." Ami smiled at her and looked at the small card she held in her fingers.

"And what do you think is the most important characteristic to have in a boy?" Mitsuki smiled like she had prepared for this question.

"I think all people should just be loved for themselves and not pretend to be someone they're not." She handed the microphone to Ayani, who snatched it confidently.

"I'm Ayani Suzuki and I'm a second year. I enjoy singing and playing video games with my little brothers." I frowned. Video games were awful for your eyes. I would have a talk with my girls later about such things. "I'm looking for someone who can handle me yet love me at the same time." Ayani glared at the row of guys, her black eyes narrowed like she was daring them to even try. Then, she pepped up with a wide grin. "And it doesn't hurt to be sweet." She passed the microphone down to Chou.

Chou was the palest, smallest, daintiest girl on our tennis team with pasty skin and deep raven hair that flowed low down to her waist. I knew how bothersome hair could be when playing tennis; catching in racket wires, getting grabbed in your own grip, shielding eyes when the wind was blowing. But I could never find the heart to tell her to cut the long black strands she loved. Besides, Chou wore it in seven braids on the court, all looped and pinned up securely on the top of her head. As long as it didn't get in the way, I wouldn't make her cut it shorter.

Today she wore it down and I watched her take the microphone daintily and lean forward, letting her long bangs fall over her eyes. "I am called Chou Ibu," she breathed, which didn't work very well because she talked into a microphone. A ton of feedback echoed through the auditorium. After we stopped cringing and covering our ears, Chou coughed and spoke up a little bit more. "I am called Chou Ibu," she repeated. "I am a third-year because I skipped a grade." Under her veil of hair I saw her blush like it made her uncomfortable to talk about herself. "I like to do kendo and read poetry." Chou flushed red under her black hair. "I also think it is attractive to be kind and not stare at me too much." The last words went in one hurried breath and she quickly gave Kim the microphone like it was cursed.

Kim eyed Chou sympathetically and spoke loudly like if she was loud, everyone would forget what Chou had said. "I am Kim Wysoki," she stated, picking nervously at the yellow collar on her dress she had on that looked ugly and saturated compared to her long golden hair pulled up into a loose bun balanced high on her head. "I am a second year. In my spare time I do baton twirling and challenge my grandpa for games of Go, chess, Reversi, and Pentago." Kim looked up from her shirt and turned to the row of boys with a warm smile. "I like anyone who can challenge me intellectually as well as be kind and patient."

There was Aresu who smiled enigmatically in that tricky way that made you squint in distrust. Her deep magenta hair was cut lopsidedly just at her armpit and the way she always cocked her head while grinning reminded me uncannily of the Cheshire cat. When I first met her I had thought it ironic that her name was Alice in English like Alice in Wonderland, but after I got to watch her play and even be her opponent, I decided it was just a plain name-switch mistake. Such a mistake that we had started calling her Chesh-chan. "I enjoy doing gymnastics," she continued, peeling off the white tape wrapped around her palms, flashing the two twin sets of hard calluses on either hand. "And in everything I do I love finding different ways to do everything around me." Aresu snickered and wrapped her hands back up mischievously.

Because the things she'd try differently each time ended up in basically the same thing: a prank that usually somehow, in some twisted way, involved a jar of black ink, a bucket of water, a banana peel (yes, yes, _very _cliché), and a light blue wig. It was a little eerie at how even though we all expected it, the result was always the same: a drenched Ayani, a guilty-looking Chou, a black-fingered Mitsuki, a laughing Aresu, and a very disgruntled, very not amused me.

Then with a flourish, Aresu dropped the microphone into my fingers. Finally, it was now my turn.

"Hi," I said, trying not to sound too nervous or interested, at that matter. "I'm named Ren Dunn, but I don't care what you call me." I gave a small laugh. "I'm a third-year here at Rikkaidai and in my spare time I enjoy tae kwon do and sketching still-life." I paused to think about what I could say next.

_What did I like in a guy? _

"I'd appreciate anyone who is candid but not to the point of harshness," I heard myself say. "Someone thoughtful but still eager to accept new ideas, and someone compassionate but not so much as to be blinded by ethics." I blinked, unsure where that had come from. Ami looked at me funny and reached to take the mic. "And someone who isn't prideful enough to be upset at losing to me," I added quickly.

Ami nodded and snatched the microphone back up with another hostess smile at the cameras. "All right! We've met our ladies; now let's meet our boys!" She slinked up to the first boy in line, short brown-haired Rengi Yanagi. Then there was Niou Masaharu, Kirihara Akaya, Yukimura Seiichi, Bunta Murai, and Sanada Genichirou.

I didn't really pay attention. I knew all of them anyway, and weren't _they _the ones choosing in the end?

"Alright!" It was Ami. I looked up at my sister, standing at the head of our side of the table again. "Now," she pulled out the note-card of her show prompts. "Ladies, please describe for us your perfect date for a rainy day." Ami handed the microphone to Mitsuki, who, as always, had something ready to say.

"Well," she said happily, flipping her red hair. "I think we would go and do whatever we want!" Mitsuki turned her gaze on the guys and smiled. "We can't have a little rain ruining out good time." She passed the microphone to Ayani.

"I think," she started with a thoughtful look. "We could go to the arcade, or come over to my house and play games with my family." Ayani smiled prettily. "And maybe later we could just go outside, raining or not, and do whatever." She laughed and traded the microphone over to Chou.

She was quiet for a little while until blushing under her veil of dark hair and smiling. "I think we should go somewhere quiet, very early in the morning, and practice kendo or just sit." Then, Chou shrunk back with an even deeper blush, and whispered, "or anything else you want to do."

Chou practically shoved the microphone into Kim's hands who nearly dropped it. But she straightened up and smiled, blond hair mussed-up, but still bright with its luster. "I think we could sit outside under a porch, play a board game, enjoy some food, and maybe walk to the literature house if it's still raining." Kim laughed abruptly. "Or whatever you'd prefer to do otherwise." She handed the mic off to Aresu, who grinned confidently.

"Who likes the rain?" She grinned and bobbed her magenta head. "I say we just go do whatever, live on our whims." Aresu laughed. "I have many whims, just a warning." It didn't make sense to me, but I was sure _someone _besides herself could understand what on earth Aresu was talking about. She twirled the microphone in her fingers before rolling it off to me.

"I, um..." I blinked at Ami who gave an encouraging _go on _gesture. I scowled. I didn't want to be encouraged by her. _She was the reason I was even on this stupid show in the first place! _ "I don't think a little rain should put a damper on our plans." I paused then shrugged. "If I had to plan something _because _of the rain, I think I'd want to go see that newly opened art museum, maybe spend some time sketching together, listen to music, learn some more about each other." I gave a start and blushed. _Oh god, why couldn't I ever just shut up and stop talking like one of those romantic ladies in those books I hate?_

Ami ran over, flipping the microphone in her slender fingers gracefully. "Now," she beamed at the camera, "one last question." Mitsuki sat up a little straighter. I sighed in relief. "Let's come back to this end," she strolled over to Mitsuki. "Please demonstrate other talents for us using these objects!" She swept an arm grandly over the table being wheeled out by two stage-hands in black. They ran quietly away while everyone examined the items on the tables. My jaw dropped and fell to the dirty floor.

There were sketchbooks, microphones, batons, sheets of music, various instruments, and a mash of all kinds of little things. But there wasn't, I noticed, a single tennis ball or racket.

"Pick one object," Ami continued, "and we will break for five minutes as you decide what you will perform with. Only one lady can use on object, so choose quickly. You will each have one minute," she held up a finger, "to perform and woo our audience and boys." Ami laughed fluidly like this was such a grand joke. "Now, we'll see you back in five minutes!"

The maroon curtains dropped and bright stage lights flashed on. Flurries of movement went on around me, but I was busy blinking the spots out of my vision. When I finally got to my senses, all my girls were gone, already sorting through the various supplies. The boys were watching me and I quickly sat up. _Oh, right. Five minutes. _I made my way to the table, pulling out the sketchpad I had seen and dug around for a set of nice pencils, brushes, charcoal; anything. Someone rang out, "four minutes left!" and I dug around more urgently.

Most of the girls already had something: Mitsuki had found a flute and I heard light notes twinkle through the hustle of the other girls, stage hands, and the chatter of the audience behind the curtains. Ayani had a microphone in her hand I supposed she was singing. Chou had pulled out a sword from her kendo bag and was busy setting up a straw dummy covered with fabric, red face painted on lopsidedly. Kim was weighing a set of twirling batons in her fingers. Aresu was busy stepping out of her uniform and revealing the shiny blue and black unitard she wore under her school clothes and a dark blue mat was being pulled out onstage. I quickly scrambled for a package of anything to draw with.

"Two minutes!" The stage hand called.

I started to panic and dragged the sketch pad with me as I made my way along the table. _Was there not a single cursed package of pencils in this mess? _I threw aside a jump-rope, a wig, a stuffed bear. I stared at the smiling face for a second before tossing it away too. \

_What kind of talent involved a stuffed bear? _

"One minute!" I groaned and looked at the table. There was nothing. I sighed and put down the paper mask in my hands. I should just find something else to do.

"Anyone want to be my taekwondo partner?" I called in desperation. Everyone looked up, but no one volunteered. Then, I heard my sister call.

"Ren!" I turned to her as she ran to me, blue pigtails bobbing.

"Ami?" I said in confusion. "You want to be beat-up?" She shook her head and caught her breath, holding up a package of willow charcoal.

"I-I found these in the back," she breathed. Then she grinned at me with her bright, black eyes. "I thought you'd want these." I gave her a smile that said, _thanks, but I'm still not too happy about you tricking me. _She grinned at me again and ran to the side of the stage, grabbing her mic from a stage hand.

"Thirty seconds!"

I quickly tore open the package and plucked out two of the light-weight sticks, snatched up the sketch-pad, and hurried back to my seat where everyone else already sat, waiting.

"Five, four, three..." the curtains rose and bright light met my eyes again. "Two," the manager signaled one and Ami bounced back onstage.

"Welcome back, everyone!" she called cheerily. "Well," she turned to us. "Let's get started!"

Mitsuki went first.

Everything was cleared and all that was left was the dark mat and the stuffed dummy. She coughed, stood, and walked to center-stage, lifted the flute to her lips, and started playing. I smiled, but with difficulty. I thought she should just stick with tennis. But when Mitsuki sat back down, red-faced but seeming happy, we patted her back and gave her small high-fives.

Next, Ayani rose with the microphone in hand, cord dangling from her fingers. Music played from backstage and I joined the audience to clap to the familiar song. She had perfect pitch, I thought, but Ayani just needed a sense of rhythm. But I squeezed her hand reassuringly when she sat back down after her minute was done.

Chou rose shakily, and fingered the blade of the sword she had strapped tight around her thin waist. She donned a black robe, and with her pale skin and ebony hair, Chou looked like a phantom. I watched as she stood in front of the fabric dummy. Her dark eyes were creased in a focus deeper than even when she played tennis. Her black hair was tied into a loose bun. Her dainty features were rigid with concentration; everyone hushed. And in an instant the blade was out, across, and back into its sheath. I barely saw anything...except the upper-half of the dummy falling, neatly cut diagonally across its heart. I gave a shiver at how quiet it was. The straw dropped softly on the ground. Chou's face grew soft again and she blushed and looked down at her feet. She sat again and only then did people clap out of stupor. I touched her arm in amazement and mouthed, _you were amazing!_

Kim nudged her shoulder playfully.

"You set the bar really high, miss," she teased Chou, who flushed even harder. She twirled her batons in her fingers and stood still at the center for a few moments until a fast song without words started to play. My jaw dropped as my eyebrows rose. The white and blue baton spun high, narrowly missing its twin. Kim's bright hair flashed as she watched them carefully. She never missed a single one.

Next was Aresu. She had her gymnastics unitard on and had taken off her bandages. Her purple hair was pinned back. She waited on the edge of the mat before an upbeat song played. That's when she started tumbling. Aresu was as quick on the mat as she was in tennis; she never skipped a single beat and every flip, somersault, jump, tumble, was always precise and never with a single stumble. She did her big finish at one end of the stage, running hard onto the mat until performing one...two...three cartwheels. I cheered in amazement at her as she bowed to the crowd, Cheshire grin on.

Finally, it was my turn. As I stood with my book and charcoal pieces, I started to sweat. _Why did I have to go last after all of these amazing girls? _I smiled as I sat, cross-legged on the hard ground. I swept an eye over my teammates as they watched me curiously. I picked up a piece of charcoal and started to sketch.

It was all straight lines and shadows; nothing was definite or detailed. Hair was in shades of black and smeared to grays. Wrinkles of clothes were only prominent where they were logically needed; around joints like elbows and knees and shoulders. One minute wasn't a long time, but this was a sketch; my art teacher took me to the art center all the time as a little girl were models posed in one, five, ten, and fifteen minute increments. If you wished for longer, you would have to hire your own model.

I shaded in their faces, but you didn't need to see them to realize who I was drawing.

They signaled for me to stop and I stopped, wiping a finger quickly to smear a few last-minute shadows. Finally, I held up the picture first for my teammates, then for the camera to see.

It was crude; a minute's work, a basic structure of the real thing. But nonetheless, I smiled and wiped my hands, sure that this could indeed be called art.

There was no background; just shadows. There were nine shadowy figures, holding rackets, all in our Rikkaidai uniforms. All my team, including me and Ami. You could barely make out Chou, clutching her racket and almost smiling, dark bangs hiding most of her face. There was Aresu, racket slung over one shoulder and head cocked, her magenta hair swinging free. You could see Kim, light hair standing out with only an outline and a few shadows to accent. And there was everyone else, then me. I was on the ground on my knees over Ami, smiling and light hair loose. I rested my chin on Ami's head and hugged her shoulders, our rackets in an "X" across her knees.

The crowd began to clap and Ami whistled for me off stage while my team stomped their feet and clapped and cheered. I fingered the charcoal sticks with a small blush rushing to my cheeks in embarrassment.

But I still couldn't help but smile.


End file.
